


Parisian Love Afair (Tell Her You Love Her)

by Caskettmyheart



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clexa, F/F, Other characters appear only in reference, Paris (City), Romance, Video AU, clexa au, indra - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 03:19:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7558144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caskettmyheart/pseuds/Caskettmyheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa's always been fond of her routine. Taking the same train every morning at the exact same time to get to class. But one day, her alarm finally fails on her and her routine is thrown into chaos. She thinks it's doing to mess up her entire day. Until a girl with an old camera walks onto the platform and captures her attention. </p><p>Based on that very adorable video of a blonde and brunette going around on Tumblr: Tell Her You Love Her</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parisian Love Afair (Tell Her You Love Her)

**Author's Note:**

> Based on that very adorable video of a blonde and brunette going around on Tumblr. The original is here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-nFNlC8TYf8

Every day she took the same train into the city at the exact same time. That was exactly the way she liked it. It was one of the many things that was reliable and structured in her life. Structure in her life looked sort of like this: Her alarm went off, she took a quick shower, ate, put on a touch of make-up and dressed herself before walking out the door at 7:30 sharp. By 7:40 she was at the train station to hop on the train and get to campus in time for her 8:30 class. The only reason she didn’t have a class at 8 on a Monday this year was because her professor didn’t like 8 am classes himself, so scheduled them half an hour later. It was no problem for her, of course. Though she wasn’t exactly not a morning person, she did enjoy not having to wake up before 6:30. Every day her morning looked more or less the same. Even if she didn’t have an 8:30 or 8 am class. She was on the platform by 7:40 and on campus by 8:30. Every day. Except today.

Today, the batteries of her old school alarm clock ran out before she had time to notice. Which meant her alarm didn’t go off. Which meant she didn’t open an eye before the light cracked through the curtains of her room in the 5 story walk-up. When she did, the light surprised her so much, Lexa shot up in her bed and shot a look at the clock. The time it read was inconsistent with the light coming through the curtains. So she wasted no time to get out of bed and reach for her phone that was in its rightful place on her desk across the room. Not that the room was that big to cross. With her long legs it only took about one leap before she tapped the screen and the time showed in bright white numbers on her simple black background. 7:28. _Shit_.

She snatched the phone from its charger and stuffed it in her bag, sitting on her desk chair, packed and all ready to go, all while she grabbed the pile of neatly folded clothes on the corner of her desk and started to take her sleeping shirt and shorts off. Within the minute, she’d changed from pyjamas to an outfit for class, carefully selected the day before. It wasn’t like she’d spent hours picking it out, but like her morning ritual, making her bag and putting her clothes ready for the next day were things she could rely on to do before she went to sleep. Still, she knew she’d be too late to catch her train as she tied the laces to her shoes and glanced at her watch. She’d never been late a day in her life and she didn’t want to change that habit now. But it was looking like she was going to have to. She decided to still try and make it there as she snatched her leather jacket from its hook and locked her door without having breakfast. Because she forgot if she actually packed her phone, she checked her bag for its contents while walking out the front door. Once she was sure everything was in it, she put on a little run and made her way towards the station.

As if she were having the very worst day of her life, she missed the train by seconds. Right as she rose from the stairs at the station, the train doors closed and it pulled away from the station. _Sigh_. Since this had never happened before, she also wasn’t sure how long the next train would be and if she’d even get there remotely in time. But all she could really do was lean back against the wall and tap her foot impatiently until the next train showed up. She was too agitated to sit, and triple checked if the next train to her campus station would stop on this platform. She crossed and unfolded her arms many times. Every second that passed felt like a minute. Time went by way too slowly when you really need to be somewhere.

She was thinking of ways to make up for her lost time when she heard another pair of footsteps on the stairs leading to the platform. It had been relatively quiet here, as it was every morning. It wasn’t a big station anyways. So it surprised her when another young woman like herself emerged from the stairs and walked past her to sit on the benches.

She was curious because she didn’t think anyone from her campus lived in her neighborhood. She’d never seen her before, she was certain of that.

When the girl – who had blonde, slightly wavy hair underneath a nice black hat – looked up at her, she realized she’d been studying her and quickly averted her eyes. She hadn’t meant to stare, but she’d just gotten lost in the moment.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the girl grab something and turn it over and over in her hands. She wasn’t sure if she should take a look, curiosity blooming but wanting to save herself from embarrassment. But she looked anyways, seeing that the object seemed to be a rather old, classic camera. It looked original, instead of those newly made old looking camera’s that were in nowadays. Sure she didn’t know much about the tech, but one of her friends had one of those. Raven was a total fan of all things mechanical and electronical. As long as she could break it apart and mend it again, the girl was happy. Lexa on the other hand, just listened to her talk about her discoveries and supported her in whatever her next project was. That’s how she knew this was the real deal: Raven’s last project had been comparing an old version to a new one.

Right when she sensed the girl was going to look up again, she averted her gaze forwards and heard the intercom announce the train would be arriving shortly. She kept her eyes trained in a straight line, even when she saw the other girl looking her way and doing something with the camera. Wait, was she taking a picture of her? What? She looked at her out of the corner of her eye and sure enough, the girl was pointing the lens right at her. Lexa was confused and startled by the strange gesture.  
When she looked at the girl again, she was putting the camera away in her bag. Lexa couldn’t help but think of what to say. Though all the scenarios running through her head weren’t good ones. Perhaps she’d only thought that was what the girl was doing and she’d get angry for thinking that’s what she was doing. Or the girl was taking a picture and wouldn’t hand it over. Or she’d dare her to prove it or something. Either way, Lexa didn’t know what to say or think. But then the girl stood up and walked towards the tracks where a train had halted without Lexa even noticing.

She ran her hand through her hair to shake her thoughts and wanted to get on the train before noticing something on the floor that hadn’t been there before. She’d dropped the picture. Huh? Lexa made a split second decision as the doors on the train opened. She carefully picked up the picture and made her way inside the wagon after the girl. She checked to see if it was really her and sure it was. A picture of her merely minutes ago lay in her hands and it confused her.

When she came face to face with the girl, she had no idea what to say or how to say anything at all for that matter. Her hands wrapped around the pole in the middle to steady herself as the train took off. The other girl did the same and they stood on opposite sides.

Eventually, Lexa was able to give her a shy smile and greeting.

“Hey,” she spoke softly.

“Hi” the other girl smiled back.

Lexa stepped off the train later that morning to the thought that perhaps, taking the later train wouldn’t hurt. Much.

 

The very next day, she had the courage to ask the girl for her name and number, to which the girl responded by sending her own number a text with the time and place. Barely 24 hours into knowing this girl very vaguely, talking once on the train, she had a date after her classes the next day. Lexa couldn’t deny herself the smile that framed her face when she’d read the text.

She responded by giving the blonde, Clarke, a radiant smile and a nod, “It’s a date.”

\--

She’s waiting in the coffee shop after class and she can’t deny that she is extremely nervous. She’s never really been asked out like this, or has gone on a date like this. All her previous dates had been with people she’d know, or at least known more about than just their name and the fact they like photography. Clarke seemed interesting enough, otherwise she would have never agreed to this date. But she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to keep an interesting conversation going. She’d been told she’d more of a quiet type, and she knows that. But she still wants to make an impression on this girl, on Clarke. For some reason, Clarke intrigues her more than she probably should after having just met her.

She orders some Moroccan mint tea for herself before Clarke even arrives. It’s cold outside and she hopes she won’t mind when she arrives.

She’s dipping the very bottom of her sugar cube into the hot liquid when the door opens and closes with a gust of cold wind and Clarke walks in accompanied by the clicking of her heeled boots.  
“Hey, you made it,” Clarke shot her a smile as she swung the bag from her shoulder and placed it on the ground alongside the chair. The old wooden chair scraped over the floor as Clarke pulled it back to get seated. Lexa observed her as she took off her coat and placed it on the back of the chair with ease.

“Why wouldn’t I have?” Lexa wondered aloud. Her voice was soft and curious.

“I wasn’t sure if you were really going to come. For all you know, I could have lured you to my secret lair to kill you or something.” Clarke was joking, but it scared Lexa that such a scenario hadn’t even occurred to her. Maybe she should have considered things like that. Why did she trust Clarke so blindly?

As if Clarke could read her mind, she started, “Oh hey, I didn’t mean that I am or anything. I’m just glad you’re here.” Lexa looked at her curiously and decided she wanted to see more of that smile.

“So am I,” Lexa said and found that her nervousness had ebbed away. Instead, she felt strangely at ease around Clarke.

Clarke ordered coffee and launched her into a conversation about everything and nothing all at once. They talked about pointless things like little boutiques they liked in the city, but also discussed their interests.  
Clarke admitted her passion for photography and anything artsy came from her father, who’d passed away a couple of years before.

“He had a collection of old cameras, all still working. He’d go through them with me, and tell me how to use them. But I could never really take pictures with them. He liked them to be spared. To be an object to look at and admire. That’s where he and I differ. I want good things to be used, not spare them until they’re useless.” Clarke looked at her and scrunched her nose. They’d just ordered their second beverage of the night and Lexa was busy unwrapping her sugar cube. There were two in the pack and to keep herself busy – she didn’t really know how to respond to Clarke’s story – she took one and dipped the bottom of it into her tea. She waited a couple of seconds as the liquid stained the white sugar.

“I understand both your perspectives. About wanting to keep important things away from any harm, but still wanting to use them to the fullest.” She paused and took the cube out of her tea. “Then again, I don’t know anything about photography or camera’s so I wouldn’t know what to do.” Clarke chuckled in response and watched Lexa put the sugar cube into her mouth and bite a part of it off.

“Okay, you’ll have to explain to me why you do that, and what’s so good about it because I’ve seen you do it twice now and it baffles me.” Clarke said, referring to Lexa’s sugar cube habit.

When Lexa didn’t respond, Clarke just watched her. Lexa took the second cube out of her packet and dipped it into the tea in the same fashion she had before. As she waited, she eventually spoke.

“It’s something my nanny used to do.” Clarke was sure the cube was about to break off into tiny pieces but Lexa pulled it out at the right moment and brought it up to Clarke’s mouth. “She drank tea, never coffee, and never drank it with sugar. But at restaurants, we’d always get a packet of sugar along with our tea.” She motioned for Clarke to take a bite. “If you suck on it a bit first, it’s even better,” she said, only to blush a little bit later when Clarke’s lips grazed her fingers as she sucked out the liquid and bit off part of the cube. “Indra hated wasting things. So she’d unwrap the cubes and dip them in her tea to eat them separately. She didn’t really let me eat anything sugary besides that sugar cube every once in a while, so it was a special treat, I guess. I don’t know why I still do it. I figure it’s just become a habit.” She shrugged on the outside, but in her heart she knew it was because she missed the only mother figure she’d had in her life before becoming too old for a nanny. It was no time to share that with Clarke however, so she kept the family skeletons in the closet a little while longer.

“It’s a wonderful habit, though,” Clarke said before taking another sip from her own drink. The coffee in her mouth mixed with the sweet aftertaste from the cube and it made her smile.

Before Lexa or Clarke could say anything else, a song Clarke recognized came on and made her grin. Lexa looked at her curiously as she slid her chair back with a scraping noise of wood on stone and stuck out her hand. “Come on, we have to dance to this!”

Lexa’s eyes widened, “Dance?” she questioned, absolutely terrified at the thought. “I can’t dance,” she admitted.

“Oh it’s nothing special, just a two step. Here,” Clarke grabbed Lexa’s hands and pulled her up, “I’ll teach you.” So started an impromptu dance lesson from Clarke to Lexa. Clarke did the steps, and Lexa imitated them next to her. Her rhythm was off so Clarke slipped her hand into Lexa’s to show her when to step and jump and change directions. Lexa’d never considered herself a good dancer, despite being good in other physical activities. Clarke, on the other hand, made even a simple side step look incredibly interesting.

Lexa was happy to note that no one even batted an eye at the two girls getting up to dance in the middle of a little café. No one gave them looks or laughed, they all just drank their beer or wine or coffee and chatted with their own date or partner.

More than once, she stumbled and the pair laughed. It was all good fun. Eventually though, the song ended and something utterly un-dancable – as Clarke put it – came on the radio. They sat themselves back down and finished their drinks. By now, it was getting rather late.

“I guess I should head back to my apartment soon,” Lexa regretted having to say the words to cut their date short, but she did have classes the next day and she should get some more sleep than just a couple of hours. It wasn’t too late but with her never-ending homework waiting for her, she should at least aim to get home around 9. With all their talking, they still hadn’t had a bite to eat besides the sugar cubes. “I doubt those count as actual meals,” Clarke had said when Lexa mentioned.

Clarke’s smile weavered a bit at the news but she nodded. She took the last gulp of her drink and stood. Before Lexa knew what was happening, she paid at the bar and put her jacket on. When she was ready, she gave Lexa an expectant look. “Well, come on, if you’ve gotta go home to do that homework, we can’t waste any more time sitting here.”

Lexa looked at her with wide eyes, “You’re going to walk me home?”

“Unless you don’t want me to, then I’ll stay. But we sort of do have to go in somewhat the same direction and walking home together seemed,” she paused in search of a word, “well it seemed nicer than alone. Don’t you agree?”

It made sense, and to Lexa it actually did sound quite nice. It just hadn’t occurred to her, for some reason, that they must live in the same neighborhood because they went to the same platform. In a beat, she was up on her feet, gathering her stuff and trailing behind Clarke, out of the café and into the cold fall evening air.

 

It was already quite dark for it being only around 8:30 in the evening, but there wasn’t a lot of wind. Though it was still cold, Lexa could bare it with her favorite jacket. Clarke was wearing her own leather jacket that would be too cold to wear soon so both girls were making the most of the weather as long as they could. They soon gravitated towards each other as they walked along the Seine and over the bridges. Clarke told her stories of the places she’d been the past year. She was a traveler, Clarke. Photographing many different subjects along the way. Lexa listened with curiosity to all the tales and wondered how it would be to just be able to travel without school holding you down. Clarke explained that she decided to go back to school only to study arts so she could learn new techniques and broaden her knowledge, but it was her choice to go back to school. Her own and no one else’s. Lexa liked that idea. Of being free from her parent’s grip on her life. But she didn’t dwell on the thought for long.

“How long have you lived in the city,” Clarke asked her.

“Only since August,” Lexa said, “I still don’t know much about it because I haven’t taken the time to explore it yet.

Clarke looked at her with an expression Lexa could only describe as wicked. A second later, she was being pulled by her hand down some steep steps and only a ledge besides the Seine.

“Clarke!” Lexa shrieked, “What are you doing?” She laughed as Clarke slowed down a bit but didn’t let go of her hand as she tugged Lexa along. Lexa liked the feeling of Clarke’s hand tugged into her own. Her hands were always cold and Clarke’s warmed hers up just enough.

Instead of answering Lexa’s question, Clarke asked her one. “Do you know what this bridge is called?” Clarke gestured towards the one they were slowly approaching. Lexa shook her head and looked at her for an explanation. “This is Pont Marie,” Clarke started. “It’s a bridge built in the 17th century that, in recent years, has become quite famous.” Lexa’s eyes were on Clarke as she told the tale. The moon was shining brightly and made the blue in Clarke’s eyes stand out. When Clarke licked her bottom lip, Lexa’s eyes couldn’t help but stare a little too long at them. They looked soft, easy to kiss. “Do you know why?” Lexa was listening but only vaguely recalled herself shaking her head, entranced by the girl’s touch in her hand, her eyes in the moonlight and her lips talking animatedly. “It’s been dubbed the ‘lover’s bridge’ by excursion boat companies. They say it’s an old tradition to kiss the person next to oneself and make a wish.” Lexa swallowed as the bridge came closer and blocked the moonlight.

In a moment of boldness, all Lexa could do was go along with the story. God knows she really wanted to be spontaneous and enjoy this date for once. “Well, we wouldn’t want to let down the excursion boat companies now, would we?” As they stepped under the bridge, Lexa turned around, facing Clarke. She moved the hand not intertwined with Clarke’s to the blonde locks of hair framing the girl’s face. Her fingers grazed Clarke’s ear as it pushed a lock of hair back. Her eyes traveled from the lock of hair, to Clarke’s lips, up to blue eyes already staring back at her. They moved together, both inching towards each other before Clarke finally closed the gap, the warm hand coming up to cup her jaw and holding her in place as their lips touched.

It was soft and careful for all of two seconds before Lexa completely melted into the kiss and moved her lips against Clarke’s. The other girl had no problem in deepening the kiss and pushing against Lexa. Her back hit the slightly curved wall of the bridge with a soft thud as Clarke made sure not to let Lexa hit her head. When Lexa’s tongue grazed Clarke’s bottom lip, Clarke happily let her deepen the kiss. A moan escaped on her part when Clarke softly bit her lip. Her eyes shot open at her own sound and she saw Clarke with hers still closed. It was really a beautiful sight.

Their entangled hands let go of each other in favor of tangling themselves in clothing or hair and spurring each other on. With every graze of tongue or nip at her lip, Lexa felt herself letting herself go and enjoying this feeling of having nothing to worry about except if she was being a good kisser or not.

The thought made her smile into the kiss which gave Clarke a reason to come up for air. This girl took the breath out of her in the best way possible. In response to seeing Lexa smile so bright, Clarke couldn’t help but smile back.

“What’s on your mind right now?” Clarke asked her, curious of what thought had made her smile.

“Nothing in particular. Just, you and I, right here in this moment.” Lexa shrugged and lowered her voice, “And perhaps me wondering if I’m a good kisser…” Clarke let out a throathy laugh, she couldn’t be helped, and threw her head back. To answer Lexa’s thought, she grabbed the brunette’s face with both hands and pecked her lips. It was as if she’d been doing this forever, Lexa thought at the easy manner of it all.

“You have nothing to worry about,” Clarke pecked her lips once more before giving her a lingering kiss. Lexa closed her eyes, expecting more, but Clarke let her hands entwine with Lexa’s and she pulled them back from the wall of the bridge to walk along the road they’d been walking.

Soon, their arms linked together. Then something occurred to Lexa, “Did you make a wish?” she blurted out. Clarke nodded and looked at her.

“You?”

“I forgot,” Lexa honestly spoke, “but I don’t think anything could make this day better. I don’t need a wish.” Clarke kissed her cheek in response and led her down the street.


End file.
